The year my younger brother and sister were born, I was seven.

The small room was crowded with people, all praising my parents for their good fortune, having a pair of twins, a son and a daughter.

I stood outside the door, fingers twisting the hem of my clothes, timidly watching from afar.

It wasn't until I heard the baby's cry from inside, along with my mom's slightly impatient call, "Zhang Yun, quickly take your sister to change her diaper, and bring the broom to sweep away the trash on the floor."

I took the broom, lowered my head, entered the room to sweep away the trash, then carried my crying sister out of the room.

I heard those people in the room saying, "Oh, your Yunyun is really sensible, at such a young age, knowing how to clean and take care of her younger siblings."

"Yes, so young and so sensible, I wonder which boy will marry such a sensible girl in the future."

Perhaps my mom felt proud, she laughed, "Yes, our little Yun is much more sensible than other children, she can do all kinds of chores..."

I silently carried my sister out of the room.

Of course, I was sensible, because from as far back as I can remember, my parents have said to me the most, "You must be sensible, if you're not sensible, no one will like you."